Chapter Text
It started 4 months after the war with King Orange, when he almost destroyed Minecraft. And the whole gang along with it. Second wouldn't say that everyone got over those events easily — take Blue, for example, who still bore scars from his swim in lava. The gang always got tangled up in all sorts of adventures, and it would have been strange if they came back without injuries. Physical and psychological alike. But they always worked through it, talked to each other, shared their feelings, and it got easier. Even Second talked about his sleep deprivation and his anxiety about who he was and why Alan made him that way. He always thought that he and everyone else were capable of noticing even the slightest unease and stepping in to help.
Unfortunately — or fortunately, but probably more unfortunately — Second had a sixth sense, and it always announced itself when something really bad was about to happen. After feeling something like that, Second started paying closer attention to his surroundings, especially his family. At first he didn't notice anything; his sense flared up again after the chaos with the Lucky Blocks, when Red once again acted first and thought later. Second genuinely felt sorry for Red as he stood over the Creeper-Bee's grave — losing animals wasn't unusual for him, but that time he said goodbye for quite a while. He wasn't mourning; he just stared at the memorial with empty eyes, so no one dared to interrupt him and rush to the punishment.
Yes. Punishment. It was a collective decision, and Red didn't resist it at all. He said nothing when they reprimanded him, said nothing when he learned about the room they were going to lock him in, said nothing when he slowly walked up to the gang so they could throw him into that very room with a single miserable chair. It was supposed to teach him a lesson, so that he'd start thinking before acting. But that was so Red! That was all him — impulsive, energetic, always the one who lifted the team's spirits and sent them back into battle with renewed strength. Sometimes he seemed like a child because of his temperament and his more open emotions.
So Second was very alarmed when, as he walked away from the room where Red was sitting, he saw the emptiness on Red's face and his hands clenching until his knuckles turned white. He was staring at the floor — not at the gang, who were heading home. Second decided that the death of the Creeper-Bee had affected him that much, but he still made a mental note to tell Yellow, Green, and Blue about it, and to talk to Red when he had time.
What a pity that time never came.
---
They went on an excursion into Minecraft — to gather materials, take a walk, have some fun. They joked, Blue talked about new potions that might be added in the update; everything was fine. Yet the sixth sense didn't leave Second; it lurked somewhere in the back of his mind, but he drowned it out so as not to ruin the moment with anxious thoughts. After all, everything was wonderful right now; they were having a great time. They decided to make a small camp, set up a fire, Blue once again amazed everyone with his cooking skills, and Green played an improvised flute that Second had given him. It was a good day; the sun shone warmly, a breeze brushed over them, and Blue's cooking was already starting to smell delicious. Somehow the time quickly slipped toward evening, and the sun had to set beyond the horizon. The gang decided to hurry back to the computer before it got completely dark and they got attacked. Green joked about that — and apparently jinxed it, because soon after they had to run and fight off a horde of mobs. Well, they were used to it; they'd been through worse. They just had to make it to the portal, then a quick trip through another one, and they'd be home.
While fighting off another zombie, Second noticed Red's weapon break. Distracted by that, he took an arrow in the shoulder, hissing in pain. Everyone noticed and hurried to finally jump into the portal — except Red, who fixated on that wound longer than the others and just stared at it with a detached gaze, until a creeper that had crept up from behind exploded, leaving him with four hearts. He fell to the ground, landing near the group, and Yellow started pulling him up, telling Blue about a healing potion and how they needed to get out. But Red heard none of it; his eyes locked onto Yellow's staff with the command block. And before anyone could react, he snatched the staff from the stickman's hands and jumped back.
"Sorry, I'll borrow this for a bit," Red said, pulling out the command block and tossing it to Yellow, then inserting a gold block he had into the empty slot.
"Red, what are you doing!? Come back!" Yellow shouted, and the others chimed in. But Red wasn't listening anymore.
He dashed forward, swinging the staff, flinging monsters in all directions. He lingered on some longer than usual — mostly skeletons, striking them with greater force than the others. The rest watched as Red, with low health, deftly dodged mobs, wielding the staff as if he'd used it his whole life, and tossing aside anyone who came near him or the gang. For a second, a spider started crawling toward Green, but Red suddenly appeared next to him and quickly sent it flying before it could strike, then returned to annihilating every monster that dared attack them.
Second had a flashback — Red fighting exactly like that against King Orange when he was trapped, and how he managed to lift a netherite block, even if he later collapsed on the floor. When it seemed like all the monsters were either defeated or had fled, unwilling to face the stickman's wrath, Red lowered the staff and breathed deeply, recovering from a fight that could have been avoided. He turned to the gang, who were staring at him with wide eyes, and walked toward them. The guys were ready to ask why he had behaved that way and what had caused it. Red limped along, dragging the staff behind him, leaving a trail on the ground without caring whether it got damaged or not. He noticed Second pointing at something behind him — and at that moment a zombie, deciding it was the perfect time to attack, struck him, leaving him with just one heart.
Red swiftly tossed the staff back to Yellow and spun around to punch the zombie. In hand‑to‑hand combat, he began landing rapid blows, not giving the poor zombie even a chance to strike. Red pinned it to the ground, not letting it move, and kept hitting it without a second's pause. At some point, simple self‑defence turned into a full‑blown beating, as Red brutally mangled the zombie's face. Though you could hardly call it a face anymore — it looked more like a bloody pulp, staining Red's hands crimson, even though the stickman was red anyway. The gang watched and wondered why the zombie hadn't disappeared yet, given how much damage Red had dealt. The stickman kept punching the zombie; a bit more and he could have cracked its skull. Suddenly Red stopped, then slammed both fists into the zombie's face — a spray of blood splattered across Red's face — and the zombie vanished into thin air. For a few seconds Red remained sitting there, staring at the spot where the zombie's face had been, then abruptly stood up, startling the other stickmen, who huddled together, and headed toward them. He walked to the portal, arms dangling, looking as if through the gang. His face was covered in blood, as were his hands and hoodie, but Red didn't pay any attention — he didn't even wipe the bloody smear off his cheek. When he was about to step inside, he leaned against the portal frame and turned his head toward them.
"I'm sorry... for that. If you want to punish me again, I won't object." Though he looked at them over his shoulder, his gaze wasn't on them — it was fixed on some single point. Anywhere but their faces. Then he stepped inside, not even noticing the healing potion in Blue's hands.
The team stared at the portal Red had entered, then at the bloody spot where the beating had taken place. Without a word, one by one, the stickmen walked through the portal, but their faces were filled with sheer horror at what they had just witnessed. When they came through, they saw that Red had already covered some distance and was confidently walking toward the next portal. The piglins he encountered shied away from his appearance and gave him a wide berth. The gang followed in his footsteps; Yellow replaced the gold block in the staff with the command block, while Blue handed the healing potion to Second. They walked in silence, staring at Red's retreating back, until Blue finally dared to speak up.
"So... Are we going to comment on this or not?" His voice was quiet, as if he were still back there watching Red turn the zombie's face into mush. Blue looked anxiously at his friends, fidgeting with his potion bag.
"Yeah, I'll start. What in Alan's name was that?!" Green said loudly, then immediately shut up and glanced at Red, who — fortunately for him — hadn't heard. Or just didn't react. "First he yanks the staff out of Yellow's hands, then gives us a live dissection show. What's wrong with him? Did something happen?"
"If he wanted to fight, he could have just told us, but given how brutally he was doing it, I don't think it's just about wanting to spar," Yellow joined in, inspecting his staff for defects.
"Do you think something's weighing on him?" Blue suggested with concern in his voice.
They fell silent again, looking at Red. All the while they walked, he never stopped clenching his fists. Second's sixth sense was screaming at him, and he himself couldn't stop thinking about it.
"We need to talk to him when we get back," Second declared confidently, and everyone nodded in agreement.
Meanwhile, they all walked in oppressive silence, carefully watching the figure ahead — whose hands were shaking, eyes darting, chest heaving. But they didn't know that.
---
After what felt like an agonisingly long time, they returned home. Red immediately went up to his room, slamming the door loudly before anyone could stop him. They could have followed him — they should have followed him — but an awkward feeling held them back. It felt awkward to barge in with a "What happened?" after what had just occurred. They decided to give him time to cool down — just a little, half an hour, which was usually enough for him to calm down — and then send Second to find out what was going on. Even though it was already night, everyone understood that none of them would fall asleep quickly tonight, especially Red.
They sat in the kitchen; Blue was making mint tea for everyone, the mint brought by Purple from the outside world. The house was unusually quiet — even Red's animals made no sound; only the boiling kettle could be heard. The stickmen sat around the table, each trying to distract themselves in their own way: Green scrolled through his phone, hoping the news feed would be more interesting than what they'd have to discuss; Blue stared hypnotically at the kettle; Yellow twirled the slightly bloodstained gold block that Red had left behind; and Second watched them. When the mugs of tea were set on the table, they all took a sip at the same time, trying to keep busy, even though it was scalding hot.
"So... Anyone have any guesses?" Blue set his mug down and warmed his hands on it. "What could have happened to him? Why did he fight so... savagely?"
"Maybe he got scared by so many mobs and went with 'fight' instead of 'flight' on instinct?" Yellow was still looking at the gold block, which he had tossed onto the table, and sighed.
"After he spent a couple of hours in Monster School? I don't think that would have frightened him that much." Green gave a wry laugh at Yellow's suggestion and took another sip. "We need to find another reason why this happened."
Second remained silent, staring at his own reflection in the tea. Images of Red and his behaviour flashed before his eyes, but in almost all of them he acted normally — just as bright, just as loud. Yet the longer he thought, the more he realised that after those moments, Red's smile became glassy, as if he were forcing it to stay on his face, and his gaze — like today — looked off into emptiness. At such times he was... unusually quiet. But had anyone noticed? Had anyone paid attention?
"I think we need to ask a different question," Second said, and everyone looked at him. He lifted his gaze from his reflection to his friends and continued with utmost seriousness: "When did it start?"
They all stared at him in confusion, and Second hastened to explain.
"That kind of behaviour doesn't just appear out of nowhere. Have you ever noticed anything strange about Red?" Everyone pondered his words, but Second didn't stop, running his finger along the rim of his mug. "Ever since we defeated Orange, I've had this feeling that something is going on, and it's getting stronger every day."
"Red is strange by himself. I don't think even if we wanted to see something, we'd notice," Green shrugged.
"I agree with Green. Red has always been unreadable in his actions; you could never predict him." Yellow nodded at Green's statement, but then paused. "Though, after what you said, Second... Did we ever talk about how he was possessed by Herobrine?"
"I think we brought that up when we rediscovered Minecraft, but only because we were afraid the situation might repeat. He didn't want to talk about it, and we didn't push."
After Blue's words, everyone suddenly felt uncomfortable. No one knew what it was like to have your own body disobey you while you could do nothing about it.
"I think we need to check on him," Second stood up and headed for the stairs.
As he walked, he heard nothing. Nothing that would indicate that a veritable menagerie lived in this house. Second grew nervous when he found himself in front of Red's door; he stared at it for a long time, took a deep breath that didn't help at all, knocked, and then carefully entered. Everything was in its place. Second had expected to see destruction instead of a room, but he should have guessed that if there was no noise, there was no destruction either. Stepping inside, he finally spotted Red, lying on the bed with his back to him.
"Red? Are you awake?" Second walked slowly to the bed and sat down on it, seeing that Red was staring at the wall, stroking Ruben. He continued, "Do you mind if I come in? I'd like to talk to you."
"Second, I don't want to talk right now. Please leave," Red replied very quickly, in a tone that suggested he might explode again at any moment.
Second was taken aback and tried again, gently reaching out to him, placing a hand on his leg.
"Red, we're all worried. What happened today was very unexpected, and we'd like to—"
"What would you like?!" Red suddenly sat up, brushing Second's hand away, and turned to face him. "Want to tell me again that I screwed up?! Well, yes, it's true, I screwed up big time, I shouldn't have acted that way, I crossed every line! Is that what you want to hear?!"
Red's shouts immediately filled the room, and Ruben, frightened by the loud noise, hid under the blanket. As soon as Red noticed that, his eyes, which had been full of anger, instantly changed. His face shifted, and his brows furrowed. He looked at Second, who was also stunned by Red's outburst, and Red's gaze darted across his face.
"Red, listen, we're not blaming you, we're just wondering what happened to you. We're worried."
"You're afraid of me, aren't you?" Red interrupted him. Second stared at him in surprise — at how he was still clenching his bloody fists, at how a lump in his throat was making his words difficult. "You're scared it might happen again? Scared I might attack you?"
Tears began to well up in his eyes, but he didn't notice them. He looked down at Second, then turned around, staring at his balcony. Second immediately jumped up to refute everything Red had just said.
"No, Red! That's not true, we've never been afraid of you. Just tell us what happened, we want to help." Second stood in front of him, arms outstretched, trying to defend himself. But instead of understanding, he heard a quiet:
"Leave, Second. Just leave."
"Red, I—"
"Get out! Leave me alone!"
Red shouted loudly, and at that same moment the only golden trophy — awarded for the best redstone build — flew at Second. Second managed to dodge, and the trophy hit the door, shattering instantly. The stickman looked at Red, who had frozen in a throwing pose, breathing heavily through his mouth. They stared at each other, and Second took two steps toward the door, not taking his eyes off Red, who equally didn't look away. Second felt for the handle and slowly began to exit the room. At the last moment, he decided to try talking to Red again and quietly began.
"Red, even if you think you're guilty, you're not. We love you, and we need to talk about this." When he finished, a chest flew at him, but Second managed to close the door, and once again it hit the door.
He could still hear Red throwing things around the room and muttering, pausing to catch his breath, and then everything went so silent that even the creak of the bed wasn't audible. Second let out an exhausted sigh and turned toward the stairs — but immediately nearly fell over, because in front of him stood Blue, Yellow, and Green. They were just as frightened as he was by what they'd just heard, frozen in place. Blue clung to Yellow, who took his hand in his own, and Green anxiously tapped his finger on his arm. But one thing united them all: a frightened look that said maybe they were already too late. Second scanned his friends' faces, then looked back at the door.
"Guys," he addressed them, and they all immediately listened intently. His worried voice made everyone tense up — as if they hadn't been tense enough already after everything they'd learned. Second took another breath and said anxiously, "We've got a big problems."
To be continued...